RUSTY HALOS

L.V. Revene & Sharon Mitchell 2015

To complete a circle and go beyond just intersecting arcs takes time, much time. Time, the equalizer, ticks the same for each of us. What we do with our time is a measure of our worth. Saving time, an oxymoron. We can no more capture time than catch lightning in a jar. Shortcuts, not withstanding, the best value for our time is spending it wisely. Time tames even the mighty tiger.

L.V.R. & George Payne 2015

Back in 1971 I happened to be involved in making X rated film loops. At the time it was another film gig sandwiched in-between commercials, industrials and some feature film work. Sure the subject matter was more interesting than shooting French fries or A Day in the Life of a Residential Roofer, but as far as I was concerned it was film work just as was the hokey horror feature film that I was shooting around the same time. Beyond the technical, lighting and camera work were the X people of the “adult genera”. A rare breed of free wheeling unabashed, unashamed and uninhibited individuals, willing to bare their bodies and share their souls publicly while engaging in the most intimate of human activity. This was a time when watching someone eating breakfast cereal was considered vulgar in a TV ad and it was just not done; can imagine the public response to a guy eating a women and the kind of reaction that would elicit?

The stable of adult talent was varied, some one time experimenters and others were regulars who made sex films their livelihood. They all had one thing in common, disregard for the status quo. The 70’s were times of general rebellion against the antiquated norms that had fallen behind and not kept up with social evolution of the populous. The masses had had enough of the stogy Victorian ethics, bad politics, antiquated laws and “rules”. People exercised their will to view what they wanted, not led by their governors. The sexual pioneers were viewed not only for their bodies but for their rebellious, flagrant disregard for the norm. The hypocritical distain by judgmental, self righteous people , while taking advantage of themselves watching these films, seemed lost to the fact that these people, who they judged, supplied them with the means to pleasure themselves where risking the legal and moral consequences to supply a basic need and desire for the undersexed husband, the lone-sole without a mate and the just plain horny dude or dudess’. The audience was huge; the demand both gay and straight was a lodestone for people on both sides of the camera, the players behind the marketing and the consumer showing the 8mm loop on a grungy sheet in the pine paneled basement wall; while the rest of the world was wrapped in the arms of Morpheus.

Annie Sprinkle. 2015

Imagine, if you will, revisiting some of the more prominent performers from the 70″s era some 40 years later. Still in the capacity as lensman, a comfortable situation for all, the interviews for Gerard Domiano’s documentary about his father, Jerry, and the people who worked in his films, had an intimate flavor rarely achieved on camera. Gerard did diligence and had clips of scenes from the films the players were in. The flood of recollections from the different individuals, kick- started by seeing the films, was like watching an intricate web of a culture’s interconnections and relationships. More than a trip down memory lane, the reunion with my former colleagues provided a glimpse of how people had fared over the years. That’s the ultimate question, right? What will become of the wayward actors? I’m happy to report most are in far better shape that those at my 50th high school reunion. These, I realized, are the survivors. They were then and they are now. Many of the stories are of interest to fans and professional socialist as well. The porn star brand had not been invented there was a whole subcultre that made way by performing not only in a sex act but in life itself.